


Realization Sometimes Comes too Late

by AllHallowsEve



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Destiel - Freeform, Episode: s12e23 All Along the Watchtower, M/M, So much angst, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 06:40:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11549613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllHallowsEve/pseuds/AllHallowsEve
Summary: Dean watches as his best friend dies yet again and there is nothing he can do about it.  This is the aftermath of that realization which brings about clarity in other ways he doesn't know how to handle.





	Realization Sometimes Comes too Late

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at Destiel, or at least Destiel-ish. It is not set in the AU verse of my other Supernatural writing from Season 12. Wincest is not a thing in this piece.
> 
> It hurt to write this if that tells you anything.
> 
> This is unbeta'd so please let me know if you see any mistakes so I can correct them and make this better for everyone.

Relief flooded Dean’s system at seeing Castiel reappear through the sliver of gold hanging in mid air, the ugly gateway between them and an apocalyptic world that the Winchesters hadn’t been around to save.

He was whole and relatively unscathed.  A blessing, since the last image Dean had of him, he was trudging angrily towards Lucifer with his angel blade drawn.  Dean had called out to him and tried to stop him but Sam had pulled his brother back through the portal before he could reach his best friend.

Suddenly a blinding bright white light began to stream from Cass’s eyes and chest where an angel blade had pierced through his heart from behind his back.  When Cass fell, standing in his place was Lucifer.

At that moment, Mary Winchester came around the corner of the house and began to mercilessly beat Lucifer with enchanted brass knuckles.  She managed to knock him back towards the portal.  As he fell through, his last act was to reach for her, dragging her with him into the rift, just in time for the jagged golden line to close completely behind them.

Dean stood staring at the empty space where the opening had disappeared.  Murmuring only “No, no… no no no no” before falling to his knees next to his best friend lying motionless on the ground.

Dean had seen Castiel explode in a rain of blood, watched as his body had melted away poisoning a reservoir of water with Leviathan, but God had always brought him back.  Now God was gone off who knows where with his sister, ignoring their plights.  Dean hadn’t felt this much fear and loss towards Castiel since the angel got left behind in Purgatory.  Dean had carried such a load of guilt and anguish after that for months until Cass came back.  This time he didn’t know how he would manage. 

This time felt final, permanent, devastating.  They had been through so much over the years.  He had been so angry so often at Castiel.  Calling him a child and thinking every time Cass had a chance to make a decision, he always made the wrong choice, even though it was always for what the angel believed to be the right reasons. 

He had felt so betrayed when Cass stole the Colt from him, but he understood.  He had been trying to protect Dean and Sam, the foolish way he had so often tried but failed over the years.  Now he was gone. 

Tears poured down Dean’s face.  He didn’t even try to fight them.  Castiel was ‘his’ angel.  As Cass had once told Sam years earlier, he and Dean shared a more profound bond.  Dean hadn’t really known how to feel about that at the time.  It had made him feel uncomfortable, and embarrassed, but also proud in a strange way. 

When Castiel had first manifested in front of Dean, all those years ago, in that dilapidated building marked over with protection runes that did no good in the face of such a being, Cass had shown Dean his powers and introduced him to the fact that angels existed. Castiel had been the one who gripped Dean tight and raised him from Perdition, Dean had been scared, and overwhelmed.  Then he had been pissed off because of the plans the angels had made to use him and Sam in their Apocalypse game.

But Cass had joined team free will, had proved time and again how much Dean had meant to him.  How he would die for Dean, kill a reaper or other angels to protect him, was willing to suffer “cosmic consequences” just to keep him safe.  Castiel had become family, become someone Dean loved and depended on.

Now he was gone.  Dead in front of him and Dean was powerless to do anything but mourn.  Which is what he did, openly and bitterly, his tears flowed, his sobs wracked his hunched body.  He bent and cradled his arms around Cass, pulling his limp lifeless vessel up and into his arms.  It reminded him of how Sam had felt the first time he had died in the wet mud, with nothing but Dean’s arms holding him up.

Dean had lost so much.  He had mourned so many.  This cut at his very soul.

He realized he had been whispering Castiel’s name over and over, so long that his throat was dry and rough.  He pulled back, looking down at the angel in his arms.  He brushed at the hair that had fallen down across Cass’s forehead, not quite reaching his eyes. It was softer than he expected it to be. 

He had never allowed himself to touch Cass like this when he was alive.  He had always kept the angel at arm’s length no matter how often the angel had ignored his wishes and invaded his personal space. 

Sam had teased him mercilessly over the years about Cass being in love with him.  That he had marked him with his hand print as the ultimate sign of ownership.  Dean had thought Sam was crazy.  Had brushed off all the barbs Sam had thrown at him about it.  But now he thought back over all the times Castiel had tried to please him.  All the times he had made mistakes trying to take care of him.

As he held the angel gently, beginning to rock him in his arms, he felt something hard in the front of his trench coat where it lay over his heart.  Dean reached in to see what it was, and couldn’t stop the sound of surprise and pain that escaped from his lips. It was the cassette tape Cass had tried to return to Dean the day he stole the colt from him.

Dean had hidden the fact that he had made a tape of music for Castiel from Sam because he was afraid Sam would say that making a mixed tape for someone was a sure sign you were interested in them.  Dean didn’t even understand himself why he made that tape for Cass in the first place, other than he wanted to share his favorite music with his best friend.

His heart hurt at the thought that Castiel carried it around with him.  That he would never get to listen to Zepplin with the angel and see what he thought about each song. 

It made him think of the desperation and sorrow that had been in Castiel’s voice that day.  When he had explained about being gone for so long without telling Dean where he was.  He had said he had failed Dean over and over.  Cass’s voice had broken when he said “I just needed to come back here with a win for you.”

The thought of it was like a stab through Dean’s heart.  He had never told Castiel he loved him.  In this moment he realized he did love the stupid dumb ass angel.  He loved him as a best friend, as a brother in arms, he maybe even loved him in ways he didn’t want to admit.

He brushed his fingers slowly against the grain of Castiel’s stubble along his jaw.  His skin was firm even in death. He ran his thumb over Cass’s lips realizing that feelings long repressed were welling up inside of him, and now it was too late.

He cursed himself and his pride, his fear, his self doubts that had kept the feelings at bay until it was too late.

Tears were running down Cass’s cheeks and for a moment it gave Dean hope that he was mistaken, that somehow Castiel had miraculously come back to him.  But then he realized they were his own tears, that had fallen on the angel’s peaceful face and gravity was doing the rest.

“Castiel, please don’t be dead.  Please come back to me?” Dean held the angel to his chest, sobs wracking his body with the intensity.

Silence and regret were the only answers he received.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback in any form, positive or negative, is always appreciated.
> 
> I couldn't get my head wrapped around this episode in order to make it fit in with my What I Thought I Needed Most piece. But this scene hit me out of the blue the other day and the depth of Dean's emotions in that moment just flooded through my mind so I wanted to share my take on it.
> 
> If Jensen wasn't such an amazing actor, I wouldn't have half the ideas I have about writing fanfic.


End file.
